Fixed Point In Time
by OddLittleBrit
Summary: The American revolution is a fixed point in time, it can't be changed. Not that it will stop England trying, with or without the Doctor's permission. - Little oneshot thing, human names used. Tenth Doctor.


**DISCLAIMER: Neither Doctor Who or Hetalia belong to me, though it'd be pretty dang sweet if they did.**

**AN: Just a little thing, the Doctorr attempting to cheer up Iggy after the scene on the battlefield... and failing**

* * *

The man in the pinstriped suit stands in the shelter of his box, rain missing him by inches. When the redcoat man finally looks up, his face is full of sadness. Tears entwine with the raindrops that land on his cheeks and he makes no move to wipe them away.

"I'm sorry Arthur, really, I am..." The man in the mud does not reply. He just looks at the alien with dull green eyes. Hollow, he looks so hollow now. The taller man bends down, and those lifeless eyes follow him.

"Arthur... Please... You have to get u-"

"You could stop this. Couldn't you?" A sudden question interrupts him, in barely more than a whisper. The brown eyed mans brows furrow.

"...I know what you're thinking... Arthur, you know I can't," he says, hearts sinking because he knows he _could_. He just can't.

"Can't? Don't be stupid. The whole of time and space in that bloody box, and you can't fix this one thing?" Those eyes that looked so dull are suddenly swirling with fury.

"Once, just once, do something good for me, instead of screwing me up more! Just this once Doctor, just this once!" The alien stares him down, waiting for him to cool off. He doesn't.

The fist comes at him so fast, he hasn't the time to react, and he's sent sprawling across the floor. His head hits the muddy floor with a loud _thud _and for a moment, he lies dazed. Then suddenly, there's a red coat flaring out above him as Arthur leaps over him, kicking the doors to the time vessel open. He scrambles to his feet, head spinning as his feet tumble over each other.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" he yelps, as he lands awkwardly and trips, clutching at the panel of his ship. His feet move under him, trying to find footing on the cool floor. Arthur turns to glare at him with eyes that burn a fiery emerald.

"If you won't help me, then I'll bloody well do it myself, Doctor," he spits, hands reaching for the controls. He has no idea what half these buttons do, there are pieces of technology here that are way beyond his time, but it doesn't deter him. He'll figure it out. He's tugging at a bright red lever when a hand suddenly latches onto his wrist.

"Arthur, no! You can't, all right, you can't! I know you're upset, I know you just lost everything, but you ca-"

"Why not? Why can't I fix things, huh? I made a mistake, let me fix it!"

"The Revolution is a fixed point in time Arthur, you can't change that!" Arthur jerks his arm away, and the Doctor is knocked back down to the floor. He takes a step towards the man, towering over him, the blue light of the column sending shadows across his face. He snarls down at the Time Lord at his feet.

"Who says I can't? These rules you're so keen to keep, who set them, huh? Who's supposed to police them? The Time Lords, wasn't it? And, oh let me see, they're all **dead**! So I don't have to play by all your stupid laws, not when I have this machine at my command, not when I'm so powerful!"

In a swirl of tattered ruby, he is back facing the panels, moving swiftly around the controls that deck the panels of the ship. He turns switches, flips levers and the whole ship lurches violently. Both men are sent tumbling, shouts unheard over the clattering of the engines. Then all of a sudden, it's silent again. The Doctor, who knows every inch of his TARDIS, is one step ahead of Arthur, and is on his feet in a flash. Canvas shoes hop lightly over metal grating, and trap the Englishman's coat against the floor.

"Listen to me Arthur. My people might be gone, and my planet nothing but dust, but that does _not_ mean anything's changed. I'm still alive, and I can't let you do this."

The Brit writes under him, but he pins his other sleeve down with his foot, and crouches over the man.

"Look, Arthur, I know what it's like to loose someone... When... when I lost Rose, I tried everything I could to bring her back... I risked lives to even say goodbye... and I nearly, _nearly _bent the laws of time, just to suit my will. But it doesn't work Arthur. It's too dangerous... I'm sorry..."

Arthur has stopped wriggling under his hold now. He looks up at the Doctor with eyes that still shine, yet somehow, the hatred has seeped from them. Instead, they swirl with pain. Tears fill his eyes again as the Doctor moves over, pulling him into a slightly more upright position.

"I just... I've been so stupid... I've gone and lost him... Alfred... D-Doctor, I... I-" sobs shake the man, and any words he had have all vanished, as he curls against the silent Time Lord. The steady rhythm of the mans hearts is calming, a comforting constant next to his erratic tears. Slowly, the tears lessen and exhaustion sweeps over him. The Doctor watches as the man falls into a fitful sleep.

So in the quiet of the TARDIS, the two men stay for hours, maybe even a day or more. Who really know, when you're hovering in the center of time and space? They do not speak, just sit, and wait for the pain to go away. For the sharp pain in Arthur's heart to heal over, for the dull ache in the Doctor's to cease. Maybe one day, they'll feel better...

It won't, they know. The pain will always be there, the pain of loss. But they have each other. The two men who never get along, who argue over Christmas, and just about every time they meet. They'll always be there to numb the pain for a while, always.

Time won't heal it, but it certainly helps.


End file.
